Prodigal and Maniacal: Curse and Void
"This. This is the only explanation Fanghe left us."
That one statement was all Minji offered before opening the door, a wordless exchange summoning Machi back into the room. Lan kept still as Machi went to work. No embarrassing wonder on her face, nor tripped over words, this time, Lan was barely aware of Machi's Nen sewing closed a created wound.
She wanted and dreaded the supposed answers imbedded on that single computer chip. Surely, there had to be more. Maybe it was just a clue. A clue that led to another clue to continue a wild hunt for ghosts.
The moment Machi finished, Lan tried to sit up, view the damage. Her cheek slammed back into the desk. For a second, she stared at the stained surface, defeated. Placing any weight on her right arm made it collapse under her. She barely managed to have a twitch of control over it. Last time, with her broken finger, Machi's fix allowed her to move it immediately. That meant her arm had been shredded beyond the repair of a miracle worker...
The pit in her stomach seemed a permanent fixture.
A second try, her weight solely on her left arm, and she forced herself up. She was greeted by a room bathed in destruction. The lights, now on and blinding, highlighted the struggle, made glass shards sparkle, showed a tacky pool of blood around a cold corpse. The briefest glance at her arm, her eyes watered. Bandages hid the damage. Bandages that she didn't even feel wrapped around her arm.
The door swinging open sent her heart to her throat, her eyes shooting upwards. Instead of Hisoka, or a member of the Phantom Troupe, one of the Fan Shi paraded into the room, as alive and cheerful as ever. Circe. The glare on Lan's face didn't affect the woman in the slightest. Her brief time conscious in the car after the abduction, the fact Circe had shot her shoulder and poisoned her more than once, Lan wished she was dead. She wanted all the Fan Shi dead, or, in the very least, far away from her.
"Everyone's waiting for the premiere," Circe announced, aiming a smile at Minji.
Hazel eyes quickly landed on Lanfen. Circe held up a black long-sleeve shirt, nearly a copy of the one she currently wore. Lan bit her lip. She didn't want it. Didn't want to accept kindness from a member of the Fan Shi, didn't want to smell the foreign scent of an enemy. But she needed it. Hisoka's leering eyes tracing over her battle-worn body, judging the menagerie of wounds, it was nauseating in thought, actuality promising to be far more uncomfortable.
Hesitation rewarded her with the shirt tossed in her face. She felt absolutely pathetic as she pulled it over her head only to struggle getting her right arm into the sleeve. That moment lasted forever under the eyes of two enemies and a somewhat-ally she needed to impress.
On wobbling legs, she stood. A single step sent her to her hands and knees. For a moment, she stared at her hands, at the blood flaking from her skin. She was so unbelievably weak, she couldn't even walk. It didn't matter that her head was spinning from presumed anemia, that her body and mind had been through hell and back. This, right now, this was her determined destiny: a flesh container for the item- or just a singular clue. She couldn't face the Fan Shi alone. Now, she couldn't even carry herself with a fucking bit of dignity. She felt useless. The only useful thing about her was finding the item, and with uncovering that possibly moments away…
An offered hand in her face, she slapped it away. Circe paused, mildly offended, before she shrugged, smiled, and paced back to Minji's side. Machi stared at her with a look that clearly stated, "don't expect me to haul you around." And Lan agreed. The Phantom Troupe didn't come here to baby her. They came for the item. All of Chrollo's pretty declarations to her didn't matter to them, merely for the fact he couldn't express his changed desires to them. If she ended up dead, he might care, briefly, but the Spider would always be more important. And she wasn't a Spider. Never would be with how useless she was.
She stumbled back to her feet, swaying, head spinning. Minji was halfway out of the door by the time Lan took her second shaky step. Machi had the decency to not sprint out of the room, though she still walked a distance ahead of Lan. Circe, infuriatingly, lingered, closely watching Lan struggle through the scattered debris littering the floor. Progress was slow until she finally reached the doorway, found the wall of a long corridor to cling to for support.
"I spoke to Chrollo earlier," Circe whispered, leaning in too close, acting too friendly. "I shared our location to make a deal with him. Only Minji, Sybil, and I are left." The drop in her tone, the fading of obnoxious cheer, Lan didn't care. There was no pity, no sympathy, to be had for them. Not from her. Not when they did this to themselves. Fanghe had been dead for nearly twenty years; they chose to chase a phantom, chose to follow orders from the long dead. "We're not out to kill you," Circe added. Again, Lan didn't believe her. Joan had said the same thing before commencing the torture. If Circe was seeking trust, or some form of forgiveness or understanding, fuck her. "Actually, if we did-"
"Shut up."
The conversation ended. Circe laughed under her breath, apparently amused with Lan's anger. She resented that. She resented that so much, but maybe she was a joke. No matter the effort, no matter the task, she always failed in some way. She liked to pretend she was strong, but she couldn't think of one pivotal moment where she had succeeded on her merit alone. She couldn't even escape a destiny set into motion by a decayed corpse. And she thought she had worked so hard to avoid this… Just another failure for the list.
Voices in the next room momentarily drowned self-doubt for a different sort of misery.
She kept her head low as she stumbled inside, eyes on her as an irritable conversation trailed. She recognized them, the scraggly samurai, the scarred man with stretched earlobes, and the mummy in wraps and boxing gloves. The minor scrapes, the few tears in clothes, they had faired infinitely better. Almost like this had been a joke of a fight, an unwarranted trip, and an unnecessary waste of their valuable time.
The flicker of attention she rewarded Hisoka, his pale skin perfectly smooth and free of damage, she knew better. His clothes were singed; he had some injuries hidden, though she doubted anything near severe. No, they were likely received in the name of fun while crushing Joan into the ground. And that, that might have been the only thing that made his presence somewhat pleasant. Otherwise, he remained someone else to disappoint with her pathetic capture.
He cooed her name, and she ignored him, fingers tearing at the hem of her borrowed shirt. The samurai tried asking something, ignored as well, earning more complaints. Other members joined in, playful bickering easy entertainment.
It didn't feel like this moment was the culmination of her life spent running from the past, from Fanghe and the Fan Shi. The sole person as invested in this as her…
Silent, fiddling with various decaying forms of technology, Minji ignored everything that wasn't related to the chip. The tv connected to a laptop, she feverishly plugged in a line of adapters to eventually reach whatever obsolete device had originally been meant to view the chip with, so long ago.
A flash, a change from static blue to a picture on screen, silenced the room entirely.
Grainy video feed, the quiet hiss of white noise, the image on screen sent Lan's nails into her palm. Sitting pretty in front of the camera, serene smile nothing short of mocking… A face to her misery: Fanghe. Lan hated it. Hated their resemblance. To each other and their father, jealous that Fanghe still managed to look more like their mother than Lan ever could, even while coated in makeup, long hair dyed deep black.
Bloodlust tried to bubble from within, tinge her aura with a desire to kill the dead, but she was instead reminded she was spent. Empty. Exhausted. She couldn't even show long-held hatred as she wanted.
"I hope you found this, dear Father," Fanghe began, leaning back in her chair. Level, calm, her words carefully pronounced with the utmost eloquence, Lan despised her voice, her attitude. The fact this was aimed at her father, not even Lan herself, or even the Fan Shi… All her attention went to the venomous words of a monster taunting her from death. "Because, to get this, you would have had to personally tear it from Lanfen's spine. I doubt she survived the process." She laughed under breath, a bubbly giggle that made Lanfen's blood ice. Her intended end had always been a sacrifice to the item. "Not that I ever intended for her to do so, of course." Her smile, the amusement leeching into her otherwise controlled tone… Dread pooled in Lan's stomach, her heart plunged further into wrathful anticipation. Fanghe treated her as a punchline to a joke aimed at their father. Nothing more. Nothing less.
"I am the only child now, right, dear Father? That makes me your only heir." Malice-laced, the truth from a liar, this- "I wonder, was it worth it? Was denying me my birthright worth losing everything?"
All of this was because she felt jilted. That's it. Fanghe planned to have her killed over something as petty as the family name, for the control over the business that went with it. Lan almost…
Her eyes flickered to the floor as her teeth sunk into her lip.
She almost wished that it had been for some righteous cause, that Virgil had been right instead of her. Because then, then at least this would have meaning. Meaning more than petty inheritance and succession rights.
"I do so hope you thought this was the item. You see, that is what I had wanted. In fact, I started that rumor solely for this moment." Each spiteful declaration, the contrasting tone to her expression, to her act, brought more desolation. A carefully laid plan that managed to function even after her death… "I also had my dear brothers, your oh-so precious sons, killed." No regret nor guilt, she spoke of the task like mundane chores marked off a to-do list. Family meant nothing to her, yet their name meant everything. "Jiahao, personally," she added, dismissive, "but you knew that as well, didn't you?" Another horror story shared by their father as a threat and a promise if Lanfen was ever found by the Fan Shi: Jiahao forced to watch his wife gutted, newborn beaten, toddler tortured, before being slowly executed himself. Father had said that they would kill Mother and Auntie the same way as she watched, and it'd be her fault.
Fanghe sighed heavily, dramatically. "Yet, still, you regrettably failed to see the error of your ways," she admonished, now speaking to a misbehaved child instead of a man heading a trafficking ring spanning a country with connections extending worldwide- the position Fanghe so coveted. "The New Year's massacre was my doing as well. I am sure you knew as much, yet… Perhaps you were too busy cursing my name to notice?"
Suspicions, but never solid evidence, Lanfen mentally answered in his place. Though that hardly mattered to her. Lan wanted an explanation, and this shit wasn't an explanation or a fail-safe or anything. It was bragging.
"I hope you're living in squalor as I sit atop my rightful throne."
Lan's nails curled into her left palm, right hand twitching to copy, unable. Egotistical, arrogant, this message meant nothing. Fanghe's plan had gone wrong enough that she had ended up with her throat slashed open. A message recorded in ignorance, the item, why would she reveal its location when she expected to be alive with everything she had ever wanted?
Simple. She wouldn't.
"Oh!" Fanghe smiled, eyes closed, as she clapped her gloved hands together. Her tone shifted, contorted to something nauseatingly sweet and entirely mocking. "Yes, of course, the item. That is what you killed Lanfen to obtain."
"Congratulations!" A bubbly giggle cut off abruptly. Her face wiped of emotions, she ended her cheerful act to return to cold seriousness. Fanghe leaned towards the camera, hands laced under her chin, mimicking their father as he would pass out commands and punishments from behind his desk. "Your last hope to take back what I stole, every effort you made for my precious item…"
A genuine upward twitch of Fanghe's lips, the pause, time crawled.
Everything. Absolutely everything about Lanfen's life related back to the item and Fanghe.
Her childhood spent hiding from the Fan Shi in the compound, a piece of a puzzle instead of a child, that left scars. She crashed and burned as teenager when she realized how deep the damage ran. A mistrustful bratty liar with skewed morality that's only use was obtaining an item, she didn't deserve friends, didn't understand how to make them let alone keep them. Her own actions had started pushing Auntie away, and Auntie was all she had had. She liked to call it partying to pretend it had been fun, but downing drinks every night to bury her personality, jumping into bed with anyone that'd take her a cheap replacement for companionship, worrying Auntie so she wouldn't leave, that had never been fun. She spiraled because she would never mean as much as that damn item and she knew it.
The Hunter Exam was meant to be her redemption. She had reached a breaking point, and then she remembered Hunters: fabled and revered paragons, despised and resented fiends, and, above all, strange beyond common societies' rulings. Being a Hunter would have given her a chance. If she could find no odd Hunters that would tolerate her presence enough to befriend her, then she would have had the animals and a license to kill anyone that threatened them. It was also dangerous. Another risk to take, not as pathetic as drinking herself to death or waiting for the Fan Shi to appear and kill her. She figured that if she got stronger, she could prove herself worth more than the item and finally leave behind Fanghe's cursed legacy. She became a Hunter because of the item.
Then the Hunter Exam crushed that hope. Hisoka twisted a desperate bid at friendship into a game. The Fan Shi found her. Chrollo saw an opportunity to use her to get the item. Her role of pawn in finding that fucking item, she never escaped it, no matter how hard she tried.
Everything. Everything always began and ended with the item.
"There is no item."
…
W-what?
A half step back, eyes wide, she didn't… She didn't hear that. She misheard.
"There never was." Fanghe peeled off a glove, examining her nails, disinterested. "It was a lie."
No.
No, no, no, no, no! It was real! It had to be! It couldn't be fake! Otherwise…. Otherwise her entire life, everything that had happened, would be for- for- This was another lie!
A stumble backward, Lan's knees struck the floor. Shaking, she kept watching the screen, hoping, begging. There had to be an item. There had to be. The Fan Shi had Nen because of the item. She had early access to Nen because of the item. The way they sensed each other's auras and their absence of pain, that was an aftereffect of the item. Those abnormalities in a select group couldn't be chance. Rationally, that meant the item was real, right?
Fanghe couldn't crush her reality with just four words! It was a lie! A lie!
"Becoming a Hunter was useful, if only for creating that lie." Fanghe pulled off her other glove, revealing a partial hand crisscrossed with heavy scars. Entirely missing two fingers, her middle finger neatly sliced to the second joint, she held her hand in front of her with a loving smile. "A few loyal pawns were worth the trade." A delicate kiss to self-inflicted scars, to fingers cut away, Fanghe laughed lightly. Fixated on the wounds, she victoriously uttered, "Now everyone believes it's an item instead."
Chairman Netero had once asked her, "Do you know what Fanghe wanted when she became a Hunter?" That rather trivial exchange currently offered more explanation than this video mocking Lanfen's entire existence. Nen. If there was no item, then this had to be Nen, right? It had to be something. Lan wanted to beg that it be something rather than nothing. A single lie didn't, couldn't, unravel her reality… Right?
Yet, even that didn't make sense. What sort of Nen ability could do this? What ability could twist categories, awaken Nen, eliminate pain, bring hypersensitivity between victims, persist so long after death?
"How I wish I could see your disbelieving anger right now. A shame." Fanghe glanced back at the camera, no longer admiring the damage her own ability caused her. Emotions switching to bored in a fractional second, act and actuality blended incomprehensibly. If she had lied about a lie, she had done so flawlessly.
An explanation? A clue? Nope! Lanfen had never been left with something that important. No, she was a joke after all!
"This is your punishment for taking what was rightfully mine."
Then why? Why was she punished? Why was Mother punished? It would have been so much easier to just kill Father the moment she tired of him and take the Paijin name by force. She didn't need to do this. She didn't. Why go through all the trouble of disguising her Nen as the work of some item? Of implanting a false clue to be found years later? Even without the Fan Shi, she could have killed anyone that opposed her leadership. She didn't need to do this. So, why!?
Petty revenge.
Lanfen's blood boiled despite her skin freezing with her heart. Petty revenge was the only reasoning Fanghe had ever needed. He had taken from her, so she had taken more in return. Lan knew that. She had for a long time. It's confirmation still managed to dig a knife into her chest.
"Remember, dear Father, there is no escaping me." No. No, there wasn't. Even dead, the witch in the recording pursued, destroyed. "I suggest killing yourself before I find you. I promise that this is but a prelude to your suffering."
A static hiss, a flicker, the clip ended, began to repeat.
Lan remained kneeling on the floor, eyes unfocused. That was all there was. She clutched at her limp arm to hold herself together. That short mocking message, that was all her life had been worth. Fanghe, the Fan Shi, her father, they were ready to kill her over that short video clip.
"Well?" Nobunaga snapped, sounding far away despite being in the same crowded room. His voice pulled her to reality, if only enough to listen to the conversation and feel eyes on her back. "What did she say? Where's the item at?"
That's right. Fanghe had been speaking in Anchian. They didn't know yet. They didn't know she was useless. That her life had been a lie. That her suffering had been for nothing. They would be upset to learn their trip here had been pointless.
"I'm afraid that there isn't an item," Hisoka unexpectedly replied, cheerful. His answer drew her attention from the floor, though Lan didn't have the energy to glance behind her. The stunned silence, his satisfaction, he probably smiled brightly. "You did know that, didn't you?" he taunted, likely directing it towards Minji and Circe. "Had I alone noticed that dirty little secret?"
"What do you mean there isn't an item?" Fuming, the metallic shriek of a sword half-drawn, Nobunaga's aura flared in offense. An empty jealousy found her as his palpable irritation bathed the room. She wanted to dramatically express her devastation. But, no, instead she got to quietly sit on the floor, exhausted, broken.
"Quiet down," Franklin interrupted. "Let's hear their explanation first."
"That aura that had attacked you earlier," another voice, unrecognized, likely the mummy, added, "where did it come from if not that item?"
Machi finalized the majority, saying, "Danchou may want to know."
A huff and a sword returning to its sheath, Nobunaga stood down, mumbling about this being a waste of time.
"When you killed Joan you figured it out," Circe muttered in revelation, sighing heavily. Hisoka hummed, a wicked smile working its way into his tone. Of course, nothing slipped by him when in the heat of battle. He hadn't understood a word of Fanghe's speech. If he had, surely, he would already be taunting her over how her life meant absolutely nothing without the item. "You're all familiar with curses, I presume."
The Troupe settled with the mention of curses, welcoming useful information on the subject. Hisoka waited with a crocodile smile. He would never care about a dead woman's ability, this conversation offering him some form of entertainment. Perhaps to use against her later, or to sate his own sense of curiosity about curses. She might have focused on his motives rather than her own turmoil if she had the energy.
"Why?" A single word and her voice still managed to crack. Why did it matter anymore? The item didn't exist. Whatever her ability had been, it didn't matter now. A curse was explanation enough to an audience excited to leave. She wanted to leave. She wanted to pretend this didn't happen.
The room ignored her.
"I…" Minji's rasping voice permeated sudden silence. "I do not know what I had been hoping to find." Her disappointment brought another wave of anger. The Fan Shi had no right to be upset with a fake item when they chose to chase after it. Minji tapped a key, pausing Fanghe's repeated speech so her perfectly mocking face stared them down. Minji met the stare of the dead instead of facing the living. "This explained nothing." Her hand clenched with metal scraping against itself. She shook her head, tone returned to maddeningly calm. "Nothing more than I already knew." An unsteady turn, television screen lighting pale skin and white hair a sickly shade, she looked to the Troupe. Only them. "I will explain. Her Nen. The item. Everything that I have learned since the night of the massacre."
Footsteps echoed down the deserted hall. Minji shifted, Lanfen asleep and deadweight in her arms.
Why Fanghe requested her to bring Lanfen with her remained a mystery. As was the fact that she had pulled her away from her post at Jingyi's side. This celebration would soon turn into a bloodbath; Fanghe had promised such. The Bai Ze were foolish if they thought the Paijin and Fan Shi would actually believe this to be a truce summit instead of a massacre. Fanghe arranged it all. The moment Taakya gave word, they would begin eliminating the Bai Ze and their assassins- as well as Libao's loyalist followers the Bai Ze missed.
Control of the Paijin would switch hands by the end of tonight.
As odd as this unscheduled meeting logically seemed, Minji easily brushed it aside. Fanghe's orders were absolute. An odd order was no reason to disobey.
Careful not to wake the child clinging to her, Minji opened the door, quickly stepped into the room to close it softly behind her. Amongst an odd gathering of basic medical equipment sat Fanghe. She smiled in greeting, a simple wave of her hand inviting Minji closer.
Too much equipment to be a simple adjustment to Fanghe's prosthetic fingers- that Minji had proudly created. She shifted Lanfen again. "Is there something you wish me to do?"
Another smile, and Minji narrowed her eye in suspicion. Fanghe rarely wore a genuine smile. Joan might be blinded by adoration, but Minji, not so much. This was an odd expression. The curve of Fanghe's lips, she sweetly asked, "Minji, there is something important I wish you to do." Unfolding her hands from her lap, held between her fingertips, she revealed an electronic chip. One of Taakya's design. One with a slick coating of Nen. "I want you to implant this somewhere in Lanfen that would kill if her if removed by someone without medical knowledge. Like along her spine."
Minji stared. She would do as ordered, of course, but she found herself curious. She had been under the impression that, out of all of Fanghe's siblings, Lanfen was her favorite. Mostly because she was an ignorant child she could manipulate.
"You are able to that, yes, Minji?" A nod and Fanghe stood, hands open to the table. Minji eagerly set the sleeping child down. "How relieving!" Faked enthusiasm. Her actions, her words, her expressions, nearly all were an act. Fanghe could be convincing... in small doses. Or constantly, if you were Joan. "You see, I had Taakya help me record this information. It's a clue to the item."
Minji hummed to acknowledge the answer, setting to work on preparing for a minor surgery. An anesthetic to numb Lanfen's back should be enough. The kid could sleep through Adalei and Sybil arguing; a painless, small incision with minor tugging would go unnoticed. Probably.
"And the Nen?" She snapped her mouth closed when she realized she asked the question aloud.
"You are always so curious, Minji." Fanghe stood behind her, peering over her shoulder as she watched the scalpel slice into disinfected skin. "Observant. Intelligent. You like to understand the inner workings of things. You know, you remind me of myself when I was younger." Imagining Fanghe at fourteen drew a blank. Their infallible leader never seemed quite human enough for a childhood- and this came from a Meteor City native. "I used my Nen to set a condition upon that chip as protection. Only Father or I will be able to touch it. Anyone else attempting will be killed on contact."
She absently nodded. Fanghe had mentioned leaving a clue to the item's location with Lanfen a few times now. Minji thought it had merely been a rumor meant to antagonize Libao, but, then again, she failed to think of the possibility of implanting something inside of Lanfen's body. Fanghe was cruel. If Libao found out the item may physically be inside Lanfen, he would undoubtedly kill her trying to retrieve it. He would certainly be desperate enough to try after tonight. Once the Bai Ze assassins finished his loyal Paijin officials, the Fan Shi would in turn wipe out the Bai Ze. Fanghe had it all planned out to perfection- she had even shared it with both Minji and Taakya ahead of time to ensure its fruition.
A static crackle and Joan yelled over the radio for Fanghe. She immediately silenced him with the press of a button, leaving the room to deal with him and leave Minji without his distraction. Even through the door, she could hear him shouting, overexcited enough to forget Anchian. Overdramatic fool… If anything actually went wrong, Taakya would warn them. She was staged in the security room, wired into every electronic device in the estate via her Nen.
Fanghe reentered as gunfire and screams echoed down the hall. Minji finished tying her final stitch, chip securely imbedded next to Lanfen's spine, scar presumably minimal, and the child still fast asleep. She turned on her heel to report-
Blood.
Blood sprayed from her neck before she could slap a hand over the wound. She fell to her knees, clutching her throat with blood spilling through her fingers. Eye wide with panic, she looked to Fanghe.
Fanghe finished shaking blood from her fingertips with a hint of amusement.
The moment turned into eternity as Minji's mind raced to figure out what had happened in under a second. Blood bubbled from her throat to destroy fearful questions on her lips. No matter how obvious, how blatant, Fanghe… Fanghe wouldn't just slit her throat. That didn't make sense.
"Curiosity is dangerous, Minji," Fanghe lamented, scooping up Lanfen. She cradled her to her chest, motheringly fixing her hair. Blood continued to run through Minji's helpless fingers. "You know too much, I'm afraid."
A quirk of a smile as Minji coughed up blood, unable to speak, voided Fanghe's mournful tone. Minji's Nen flickered as she fumbled for a way to save herself. She only had moments. The shallow tear in the carotid… Fanghe did it on purpose. Fanghe was fully capable of killing someone unguarded with a single hit but she chose to… Minji didn't understand. She couldn't. What had she done to deserve this? She thought Fanghe trusted her, regarded her as a valued member of the Fan Shi. What did she know that was so dangerous that Fanghe decided the risk outweighed her usefulness? Why tell her if it was such an important matter?
"Do not worry," Fanghe reassured, expression hollow. She didn't care. "Your death will not be in vain. I will tell the others that you betrayed them. That you cut into poor Lanfen in a desperate attempt to obtain the item for yourself." The kid squirmed with the introduction of cold anger in spiking Nen. Fanghe held her closer, mimicking tenderness with blood still smeared on her fingers. "Such a shame. Honestly, you were my favorite little prodigy, Minji. If only your limbs had not rotted away… With a different Nen ability, you truly would have been perfect." The screams of a massacre commenced filtered in from the hall as Fanghe opened the door. In a final taunt, she glanced over her shoulder. "I might have even hesitated to kill you."
Left to die, Minji's mind raced. She only had moments, moments that had somehow stretched to eternity with adrenaline. Skyrocketed heartbeat, agony and anger worsened the situation. She needed to calm down. She needed to act. She needed to live.
She needed to stop Fanghe.
Not only for retribution, but because she would toss away the rest of the Fan Shi as she had Minji. Taakya… Taakya was in the greatest danger. She knew the plan for tonight. She knew about the chip. She knew too much.
Fingers dug into her neck, searching. A single tear on the right side, left intact, she pinched down on either side of the nick to stem the bleeding until she had a better clamp. Her skin crawled with the searing cold sensation of Fanghe's aura- from within the room, from within her. Tearing the metal from her leg, a pulse of Nen to separate pieces for clamps to free her hands and another as a makeshift mirror…
She'd make Fanghe regret her insult of leaving her barely alive.
Minji held up her hand, flexing metal fingers with a pulse of aura. Had she stayed in Meteor City, she would have died within days. Had she miraculously survived and then been left without a highly dexterous replacement, her dream of becoming a doctor would have remained a far-fetched fantasy. A slash to the throat, she only survived because Fanghe made it possible.
She was grateful, she supposed. Had Fanghe not taken her in, even if only for her temporary use, Minji would have had nothing, not even her life.
But this all failed to answer their simple question: what was her Nen ability?
"I believe Fanghe was a specialist," she began, looking to the paused image of Fanghe declaring a premature victory. Small clues, the few words hinting to its governing conditions, even with years to decipher it, gaping holes remained in her theory. A specialist with a bizarre control over multiple Nen categories made the most sense, yet Nen was rarely logical. "Fanghe's aura functions similarly to a curse." The prolonged nature, the persistence beyond death, and the adverse effects to the infected, curse best described the ability and the woman herself. A flimsy lie about an item had somehow been molded into an effective way to hide her Nen- a task worthy of eliminating her pawns and sibling to achieve.
"By itself, it rapidly disperses aura until the target dies." Though Fanghe never used Nen in front of them, they had seen the aftermath of interrogations and battles Fanghe had personally attended to. Life so quickly drained away, Circe had joked Fanghe was a vampire. Jokes often hid their reverent fear of her. "By integrating her aura with ours, she could tailor our abilities to both our natural proclivities and her own desires." Somehow, the rapid dispersion of Nen was only the first layer to an overreaching ability bound by innumerable conditions.
"Secondarily, she made us into biological weapons."
Quiet curiosity, no gasps of surprise, the Phantom Troupe was a tough crowd to impress. Circe had been livid, though she arguably had a vested interest. Lanfen's silence after being delivered the devastating news the item never existed, Minji understood. She must feel betrayed. Betrayed like Minji had been by Fanghe that night.
"As a side effect," she continued, "her Nen inhibits our sense of pain, which in turn makes us reckless. We fight beyond the natural limitations of our bodies." Shattered bones, damaged organs, missing limbs, without pain overriding their bodies to prevent further damage, they could fight on. A bit of experimentation, and it was likely they could undermine limitations on muscles that kept them from shredding with overuse- Adalei had been close to achieving just that.
Minji remembered pain. Living without it, it had been a gift she formerly had no reason to question. It wasn't until she was stitching her own throat together that she realized Fanghe's intent. "And, as you have witnessed, should we die in battle, we become vessels to pass the curse to our killers." A glance at the samurai and the magician, both also had the disrupted aura flow of a second spent too close to a Fan Shi corpse. Anyone below their caliber would have faced worse consequences.
She looked to Lanfen, adding, "The reason we can perceive and differentiate such specific sensations between our auras is the connection we share via the remnants of Fanghe's aura." Coordinating a group of children, Fanghe probably thought it'd be useful if they could sense each other easily. Alternatively, their connection may have made it easier for Fanghe to teach them. It was another difficult-to-answer question without Fanghe.
"She disguised her Nen ability by fabricating a lie about an item," Machi summed up, losing interest in being here. The Phantom Troupe, Minji guessed their original mission had been to obtain the item, nothing else. At some point, Chrollo had grown attached to Lanfen as well. At least they were as perplexed about that fact as Minji was. Then again, he did like his strays. Dependent on how much, they may still yet face his wrath.
"An ability like that, it would have had a number of restrictions," Franklin said, analyzing, piecing together what happened without further explanation. "Concealing it might have been a condition meant to strengthen it."
Irritation broke into his voice as Nobunaga asked, "Then why not just hide it?"
Circe stepped beside her in warning as she considered answering that question. Fanghe in all her pettiness… How would someone discover her ability if she had not first created a rumor about an item with the same effects? Fanghe was an outstanding liar and actress that could have kept everything secret if she had wanted to. The only motive Minji could find in taking that unnecessary risk was to taunt Libao. If she could not directly reveal her Nen, then she could not taunt him with it. An item, she could dangle that in front of him. This final message she left him only seemed to prove that.
"Nen that persists beyond death," Hisoka absently said, his attention on silent Lanfen, "isn't it fascinating, fledgling?" Lanfen dutifully ignored him. Eyes shifted back to the girl kneeling on the floor.
Her expression blank, eyes empty, her hollow voice ordered, "Continue." Fingers digging into her palm, a delayed response broke her. "I said continue!" she shrieked, venom cracking every word. Knife-blade aura sputtered, her eyes shining with tears.
Lanfen was the only one that wished to hear how that night had ended.
Minji looked away.
She had done her part, hadn't she? Explaining that the item didn't exist, that it had instead been a Nen ability, was where her obligation ended. The Phantom Troupe was her problem, and they all looked ready to leave.
"Tell me!" Shuffling, Lanfen managed to stumble back to her feet. Unsteady steps, Minji glanced over shoulder, nails dragging across her cheek under her eye. "Tell me why," she growled as Minji stepped back, held a hand to her bleeding cheek. Had she the strength to use Nen… That would have gouged out her eye.
Lanfen lunged again as nearby metal twisted with actual anger. Before being struck, Lanfen flew back, slamming into Hisoka's chest. His grin was absent. Barely contained bloodlust tainted the room. No matter how much Lanfen fought, his Nen kept her in place. When she slumped against him in momentary defeat, Minji reluctantly dropped her Nen.
"Hisoka, kill her." Lanfen clawed at the arm snaking around her waist to hold her back. "I don't care what you want in return, just-"
"Now I'm positive that you've lost it, darling." When he pulled her against him, she kicked him in the shin, almost toppling over in her battered condition. She tried again when he laughed, grew more frantic when his lips went to her ear to add, "Be a good girl and behave. You are in no condition to be fighting anyone let alone me."
Her nails raked skin. "Don't touch me," she ordered, panic leeching into her tone.
If she hadn't tried to remove her eye, Minji might have interrupted. By leaving. She was ready to go, if the Phantom Troupe had exhausted their questions. Speaking of, they watched the spectacle with a mix of disgust and interest.
"Okay," he suddenly said, releasing her.
Lanfen stumbled a few steps away before landing back on her knees to look miserable. Chrollo was certainly the only reason this pathetic sniveling kid avoided capture as long as she had. Muted devastation would be situation-appropriate. Minji had been quite upset to learn of Fanghe's betrayal, but this childish tantrum Lanfen was throwing was just that: childish.
Minji had no reason to answer. The Phantom Troupe would have long since spoken over Lanfen's fit if they wished to know anything more.
"Minji." Circe set a hand on her shoulder to keep her from running off. Minji glanced away from the fake pout on Circe's lips, her eyes revealing irritation and some form of sympathy. "Fanghe played with her life just as much as she did yours." Trying to compare them… Minji was not this near bawling child before her. No, she fought against Fanghe's will, sought revenge for her betrayal, and dismantled her legacy. She accomplished something- no matter what it ended up costing. "She deserves to know what happened," Circe asserted. "Tell her, or I will." And I won't spare details, was meant to be the unsaid threat. Minji doubted it, but, if it would make Circe happy, then-
"Fine."
Minji stumbled from the blood-soaked control room. Taakya had suffered the same betrayal, her throat slit by Fanghe. Rare for Joan to be freaking out over something valid, but she guessed his panicked call had been because Taakya failed to answer him. Fanghe hadn't left for her concentration's sake. No, she wanted to calm Joan down, so he didn't ruin her trickery- he was a prime candidate to keep around as a pawn, after all.
More important than a cooling corpse was the data Taakya must have scrambled to save as she drowned in blood. Names. A set of account numbers. Security cameras trained on an imposing man moments away from setting out to fulfill a contract. Taakya had made her last wish clear.
She had had all she needed.
Minji struggled down the hall. Gunfire and screams throughout the building, the Bai Ze assassins were less than stealthy, triggering a shootout. So much for the agreement to not bring weapons to the party.
Through an archway to an area overlooking the chaos, Minji clutched the railing, head spinning. Joan and Virgil covered Jingyi's escape. Circe and Syibl played with a few Bai Ze assassins. Adalei was busy swinging furniture around at anyone within range. Finally, silvery white hair and the grandeur of the name Zoldyck, her eye landed on the assassin. Bullets bounced off him like fleas flicked away. Gunmen fell to the ground following the flicker of thrown weapons, a small shadow trailing the man. Fanghe finished gutting a brother, mocking victory speech ensuing.
Her head whipped around when Minji flared her aura the tiniest fraction.
"You did this," she rasped, knowing her message would reach Fanghe even if her words didn't.
The moment she had discovered Taakya, found the information she left, Minji had tracked down the assassin with one hope: he valued money more than the hire order. He had humored the blood-soaked teen offering him the Paijin and Fan Shi fortunes.
Fanghe stepped away from the corpse, minute surprise killed as she intended to trim loose ends. The next second her throat spattered blood on the floor as she quickly fell to her knees. A messy kill, too messy for a renowned assassin. Fanghe screamed in agony, noise distorted by blood drowning her. Hands desperate to stop the bleeding, wide eyes revealed unparalleled fear and fury.
She collapsed in a pool of red.
It was over too soon. Anticlimactic, Fanghe died, only a few moments of suffering her punishment for a lifetime of lies.
Lanfen focused on anger, because the moment she didn't, she knew she'd break down in a pathetic, stressed mess of tears. And Minji, she was the epicenter of rumbling rage.
Everything. Fanghe's ambition had continually sought to end her life, but she wasn't the sole puppeteer. The moment Minji had Fanghe killed, she picked up the strings to the puppet called the Fan Shi. Framing this shit as revenge, justified revenge, she could go rot with the rest of the Fan Shi and Fanghe.
"You used them."
An uttered sentence and Minji's attention shot to Lanfen, crawl of cold metal on her skin. "They refused to believe that Fanghe had betrayed us, that she had killed Taakya and then attempted to kill me. There was no salvation for them when they refused to see Fanghe as anything less than their god."
Oh, if that wasn't admitting guilt. "So, you betrayed them?" The immediate nerve struck, Lanfen wanted Minji upset. If a few hypocritical statements did that, then Lan would shove that guilt down her throat. "Couldn't let the past die?"
"They would have pursued you regardless." Minji's voice flattened as she tried to hide that spark of irritation. Too bad that snippy response gave her away. "Had I allowed them to slice you apart, Fanghe's aura would have destroyed that chip. She had lied when she said only she and Libao would be able to touch it. I implanted it." She shrugged off the hand Circe set on her shoulder, picking up on the fact the metal sculpture began to fall apart to reveal the human underneath. A step towards Lanfen, violet sheen threatening to lash out. "She neglected that in her explanation only because she believed I would be dead."
"So, you killed them because they were in the way of what you wanted?"
"I didn't-"
"You're just like her."
A step brought chaos. Minji's metal arm unraveling, Lanfen threw her arm in front of her face. Metal crunching, a metallic shriek, shuffling, more Nen flooding the room. Lan dropped her arm when movement stilled. Hisoka stood behind her, reaching over her, fingers tight around Minji's wrist, metal twisted and bent from his grip. The tip of a sword rested at Minji's neck, Circe's bleeding hand the only thing that stopped it from slicing through. Machi's threads disappeared as Franklin lowered his hands and the mummy stepped back.
For some bizarre reason, it made Lan happy. Almost like she was worth something even after the item ended up being fake.
"Danchou said he wants her alive," Nobunaga grumbled as he dropped his sword to his side. Hisoka released Minji's wrist, Circe dragging her backwards, chiding her in a whisper. Nobunaga gave an exasperated sigh, complaining, "I don't see why, but Machi's usually not wrong." He looked to Lan, pointing as he unnecessarily clarified, "So don't think that we're protecting you."
If she had been in a better mood, her lips might have twitched into a sad smile. Chrollo had such loyal friends.
"I wanted to know why! Just as you did," Minji spat, calm veneer completely wiped away. Circe wrapped her arms around her as Minji's teeth buried in her lip, as her body shook with bitter rage. Instead of feeling victorious, Lan felt numb. She hated this woman, what she had done, wouldn't mind seeing her head removed, but she understood. Sort of. "I wanted to believe she had a reason more than wanting the Paijin title!"
And Lan wanted to be more than just a container for a mocking message. But that was the truth. This was their fucking reality. No amount of denial would change that.
Any comfort earned in antagonizing enemies was null. Everything had ultimately been for nothing in her eyes. Her life had been built around a cruel joke Fanghe had left behind, the intended recipient also long dead. The devastating futility of her struggle was absolutely crushing. The heavy emptiness in her chest might be the closest she got to perceiving pain.
Minji had been chasing ghosts as much as Lanfen had been running from them. Her choices led her to this point. Not Fanghe. Obsession baited Minji into repeating the betrayal Fanghe had committed, all the while she found ways to justify her actions. She had become Fanghe in seeking revenge against her, copied all her treacheries to obtain an item. Not the item, but a little video clip instead.
Lanfen realized, now, that her father was very wrong. She wasn't just like Fanghe. No, Fanghe had ambitions. She schemed, manipulated her situation and others with lies to forward her interests. She pursued her goal so relentlessly that even death didn't completely stop her meticulous planning. She did so alone, without hiding behind others. Just using them. Fanghe… Fanghe was remarkable in a twisted way that even Lanfen couldn't completely deny. To have so many people convinced she was either the devil incarnate or a pious deity, to still be worshiped out of fear or love well beyond her death, that was amazing.
The first cold tear rolled down her cheek.
Scared and weak, hiding from the past, fear defined them as much as selfishness. Lanfen was her father. If that didn't make her feel lower than finding out the one thing that made her valuable didn't even exist…
An errant buzz and a curious hum disrupted the silence. "Time for the little spider-lings to run along," Hisoka shooed, the hostility in the air tangible. His hand patted Lan's head as he likely smiled away at irritating the Spiders. "No need to worry. I'll keep an eye on our mutual friend here until-" his nails dug into her scalp as he tilted her head back to meet eyes- "her owner comes to collect her."
He let her go, pouting at her complete failure to react. Tiring. So tiring.
She barely registered the quiet exchange that was the Phantom Troupe filing from the room. A few complaints, a teasing remark from Hisoka, and icy glares were all that marked their exit. After all, they had to leave if Chrollo was truly on his way. She didn't know if she believed that. He had no reason, now.
Her attention fixated on a point on the floor, footsteps failed to draw interest. Unrecognized shoes only convinced her to remain silent.
"Hey," Circe began, sounding awkward, "so, ah… Have this." Something was thrust into her face, a fraction from her nose. When she didn't grab it, Circe dropped it on her lap. A photo album. "It was Joan's. I know Fanghe is probably the last thing you want to see, but there's pictures of Jingyi and you in it. Joan…" A heavy sigh sparked a touch of anger. She helped Minji get him killed. She didn't get to sound sad. Lan didn't have the energy to scream about it. "He had felt bad about burning all her things." Another thing dropped on her lap. "Here's your phone." The black screen, the spiderweb of cracks in the glass, her damn phone managed to make a few tears slip. It was just one more thing broken today. "It's dead, got a bit beat up in Joan's pocket while fighting your clown buddy, but it should still work."
A pause may have been meant for a response. Lan continued to stare at the unwanted gift and her broken phone, uninterested in talking with them. She just wanted them gone.
"Minji," Circe added, shuffling steps and another pair of shoes appearing as she dragged Minji closed, "can answer any questions regarding the curse and its effects on us. Chrollo knows how to contact us if you need something." That's it. The reason that she was suddenly acting oh-so nice. Circe wanted to prove them more useful alive than dead. To Chrollo. Because Lan wasn't a threat. "I understand that this is a lot to take in after… everything. Just know that we're not enemies." And pass that message on to Chrollo.
With fading footsteps down the hall, the room emptied to one obstacle keeping her from solitude.
Hisoka stood behind her, peering over her shoulder. She refused to look up and meet his gaze. Instead, she tried moving her right arm. A second's effort and it fell, smashed her knuckles on the floor. Any positive thoughts at slight movement drowned, no optimism left.
Despite her best interests, she sought out more pain, setting aside her broken phone to open the photo album. Immediately more tears rolled down her face to land on a plastic-sleeved photograph. She wanted her mother here as more than a scrap of paper and faded memories.
A/N: So, surprise? There is no item. It's been vague for a reason.
Fanghe was a specialist that had her aura function like a curse. In her case, that meant dispersing aura. With that and some alterations, she 'created' the Fan Shi. The conditions applied were 1- no one could know about the ability 2- physical sacrifice (portions of her finger, scars) 3- the subjects' loss of pain. In return, she could curse them without killing them (ie Lan's aura isn't drained by Fanghe's aura inside her but was drained by the portion that was in Adalei) as well as directly influence their Nen to train them. As a residual effect, anyone under its effects could sense the same aura impressions Fanghe could. All for revenge, to take what she thought had been taken from her. I wonder who she and the Fan Shi paralleled til now? Anyway, Lan's angst is going somewhere, I promise. Also promise Hisoka and Chrollo next chapter- god I've missed writing them.
I'm actually super nervous about this reveal because, well, it's either a good twist or invalidates everything to this point. Including a lot of time and effort. I still like the idea, but the execution was probably sloppy at times and… I don't know. Please, please, let me know what you think. About anything. I'm begging at this point.